Oil and Polish
by EPurSeMouve
Summary: Sometimes, a girl needs to feel a little special.


TITLE: Oil and Polish

AUTHOR: EPurSeMouve [epursemouve@goplay.com]

CATEGORY: SR

RATING: PG

KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance

SPOILERS: Through Season 7, up to "all things". 

SUMMARY: Sometimes, a girl needs to feel a little special. 

DISCLAIMER: This story contains characters spawned by The X-Files, a show copyrighted by CC and 1013 Productions. Let's leave it at that. 

DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere you like, but let me know (just because I like knowing where my stories are) and keep my name with it.

Author's Note at end. 

Oil and Polish

By EPurSeMouve

epursemouve@goplay.com

http://www.goplay.com/epursemouve/

She was tempted to say that the motivation for her new habit came after the Orison case. After all, it seemed logical to claim the near loss of her fingers as her reason for embracing them. 

But Scully felt that there was more to it than that. That maybe, after seven years of latex gloves, inner organs, and greasy laboratory hand lotion, it was simply time for her to do something special for her often-abused hands. 

A manicure, for instance. 

She had often tried to take care of her nails herself, in between cases and reports and hospitalizations. But her cuticles had gone to hell from the lack of attention, and finally she'd just taken to keeping a pair of nail clippers in her purse, using the blunt snippers and tiny nail file to keep her nails blunt, too short for her otherwise slim hands. 

She had bitten her nails when she was younger, in moments of stress, and the urge to relapse to that nasty habit kept her clipping away while she waited for lab results or thought out a complicated part of a report. They might not have looked attractive, but they were clean, strong, and tough. Tough as nails. 

But in the days after the Orison case, when she had been up for review, finding herself rushed from one meeting to another, her nails had become untamed. Keratin growing unchecked, cuticles fraying. So while stumbling into the small salon had seemed like an accident on that snowy January day there was suddenly nothing more natural than taking off her wet gloves and plopping down in an available chair. 

During that first visit, time had slipped away as the chill was soaked out of her tired fingers by warm soapy water. Lan's fingers, as they clipped and trimmed and massaged, were deft and quick, more skilled than Scully's own during an autopsy. So she let herself be cared for, left her hands to another person's ministrations. The conspiracy, the aliens, could not invade the stronghold of her mind, or the warmth of this little strip mall shop. 

She was offered trays of different polishes, all variety of colors, but asked for clear, feeling daring enough with her new oval-shaped nails and trimmed cuticles. Besides, Berry Burst or Fresh Peach would show through the latex. 

She had gripped the steering wheel carefully on her way home, not wanting to damage the first decent nail job she'd had since her abduction, when Missy had smuggled polish into the hospital and filed and painted and polished her overgrown nails, the two of them laughing and being together again. Being sisters. 

Her hands had mourned for her sister for some time, just like the rest of her. But, weeks later, in the aftermath of Mulder's own mourning, hers seemed to ease. And the next time, she called Lan beforehand for an appointment. 

This time, she dared to select a color - Ocean Blush, a light pearl pink, not flashy but still nice - and sat before the small fan five minutes longer than necessary, wanting a perfect dry. Mulder didn't notice them the next day. She hadn't expected him to, hoping, in some small way, to keep this for herself. 

The ritual bloomed in this way, slow and sure, over the next few months of moderate caseloads and minimal trauma. She'd go late afternoons,letting her choices in color become more and more daring, taking pride in her small rebellion for as long as she could, before her fears of chipping caused her to sit down with polish remover. Sometimes, she'd even watch a movie while she replaced the Sunset Kiss or Violet Bouquet with a nondescript clear. One indulgence complimented another so nicely. 

When Mulder stopped by unexpectedly, a stack of case files in one hand and a six-pack of beer or Chinese food in the other, she never hid her fingers from him and never expected him to care. After all, they were just nails. 

Lan didn't share that outlook, however. After the past few months of regular meetings, she was disappointed when Scully skipped an appointment. Scully would have liked to cancel it beforehand, but Spender had been breathing down her neck, and there had simply been no time. 

-----------

"You broke a nail, Dana. Looks bad. How did it happen?"

"I was... boating. It got caught on a outboard motor. I think they need to be trimmed a little closer this time." 

"No problem. We use extra oil this time, too. Keeps them stronger."

"Thanks, Lan." 

"You know what color you want?" 

"Something red, I think."

"I just got new one today. American Beauty. Like the movie. You see it?" 

Scully shook her head. Lan nodded. 

"Very powerful movie. And it is a very powerful red." 

Scully smiled. "Sounds good." 

-----------

She had noticed Skinner staring at her hands ever since she'd started going to see Lan at least once a week. It was strange, and, she had to admit, a little flattering, though she wasn't sure what it meant. All he did was look. 

Mulder was still brooding over the Spender incident, giving her the not-quite-silent treatment, which included fewer phone calls in the middle of the night, fewer surprise visits, and fewer random touches. She was almost starting to miss those intrusions into her life. The quiet was more unnatural than usual. 

Unnatural quiet and less physical contact with others than usual. She had decided that was why the brief touch of Skinner's hand, as she passed him a file during a briefing, startled her so. 

She saw Mulder watching her, saw his sharp eyes catch her slight shake. Notice the point of contact. And, she was fairly sure, saw her nails for the first time. 

Extra oil. American Beauty Red. Strength and power. 

He glowered even more as the elevator took them back to the basement. 

-----------

"How are you, Lan? You look tired." 

"Winter formals this week. All these girls coming in, giggling. You don't look so good, either." 

"There was a stakeout I had to do alone. It wasn't much fun. Smelly." 

"Your... partner? He did not help out?" 

"There was another case. He had to work on it." 

Lan clucked a bit. "Men. Always running off. He does not strike me as very smart." 

"He has his moments." 

"But he is good to you? You seem unhappy with him so much." 

"He's just a bit aggravating sometimes. He's a good man." 

"Maybe he is just insecure. So he acts so tough. My boyfriend is like that. Always so macho." 

"Mulder's not really like that. He prefers to laugh at whatever's bothering him." 

"So maybe it is just that he can't make a joke now." 

"It could be." 

-----------

A lull between cases. She walked into the office to pick up a late report and found him struggling over a packing box bound for storage, tape dispenser in one hand, fumbling with the clear plastic tape. The end had become stuck to the rest of the roll. 

She held her hand out for it, an expectant gesture. He handed it over to her sullenly. 

It took no time at all for her sharp and strong fingernail to slide between the layers of tape and lift up the rebellious end. A quick fold-over kept it sticking up. 

She handed it back to him. 

"They do come in handy, at times," she said quietly. 

He stared, evaluating, questioning. But after a moment of his scrutiny, she sighed, grabbed the file, moved towards the door. 

"Scully?" 

She turned to face him. 

"Be careful with those things. You could poke somebody's eye out." He grinned. 

She took it in the spirit it was meant, and smiled. 

-----------

"So, Dana, are things better with your partner?" 

"I think so. We had a long talk last night."

"Just talk?" Lan's smile was full of mischief. 

"Yes, Lan. I slept on his couch. But it was still good. Being able to talk to him." 

"Talking is good." Lan reached for the oil. 

Clip, clip. Scritch, scritch. A comfortable silence. 

"He's coming over tonight," Scully blurted out. 

Lan stopped her movements. "Oh. To talk?" 

"I suppose." 

"Talking is good." 

"It is. I'm just not sure what's happening anymore." 

"Your Mulder is a good man. So he will not let anything bad happen." 

"You're right. I suppose it's a little strange, for me to be nervous. He comes over all the time." 

"But you think something will happen?" 

She shrugged. "I don't know what to think." 

Lan resumed pushing at Scully's cuticles. "Think nothing, then." 

Scully smiled, just a bit. "Good advice." 

"You know what color you want?" 

She looked at the nearby tray. "What's that plum shade there?"

Lan looked more mischievous than ever. "That? That we have had for a long time. Ripened Passion." 

"Ripened Passion." She repeated it, tasting the words. 

"He will not know its name," Lan said, reaching for the bottle. 

Scully nodded, swallowing away her fear. "But he will see it." 

-----------

She awoke, not to the assault of the morning sun, but to a bare back, stretched before her comfortably. 

Her arm was stretched over his side, and each finger on her hand was being inspected carefully. One by one. 

She waited for him to speak, studiously analyzing the fresh scratches on the skin before her. 

Lan would have to trim a little shorter next time. 

"Scully?" Mulder's voice was still rough with sleep. 

"Hmmm?"

"Nice nails." 

An end

-----------------------

Author's Notes: 

My dream job: making up the names for nail polishes. This story, therefore, is my portfolio. g

People to thank:

Jodi: Who told me what was good, and where I could go with it. 

Cofax: Who told me what was bad, and pointed me away from it

Kari and Ambress: Who named colors when asked.

Punk, Caz and wen: Who beta-ed with glee. 

And Jood: Who braved Title Persecution with some damn good ideas. 

This story is dedicated to those folks, and all the usual suspects. 

Comments to epursemouve@goplay.com. And thanks for reading.


End file.
